


Tales of Natsukashii

by PhoenixTakaramono



Series: Green and Gold [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst, Archive Warnings do not reflect every chapter, Between Action, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, Please check chapter notes for more specific tags, Romance, Shorts, Tags and stories will be added here and then
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 16:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15199139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTakaramono/pseuds/PhoenixTakaramono
Summary: 懐かしい / Natsukashii(adj)- A Japanese untranslatable word,“natsukashii”is a beautiful feeling communicating a state of euphoric nostalgia. The adjective is originally described as wanting to keep something close—wanting to express yearning for something. Over time, this term was used more to describe fond reminiscences, leading to the modern meaning of “aww, I remember that!”This is an ongoing collection of mostly standalone what-if’s, romance oneshots, ficlets, requests, and anything in between based off theGreen and Goldparent story. Mostly SessxHP, but a few surprises here and there. May contain explicit language and adult themes. Please check the individual chapters for the corresponding relationship tag.You do not need to have read G&G to enjoy this, but it will spoil somethings.Chapter 1 will function as a table of contents so you can pick and choose what you'd like to read. NSFW chapters will be marked in the table of contents.





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Green and Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821292) by [PhoenixTakaramono](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTakaramono/pseuds/PhoenixTakaramono). 



****The majority in the collection will be alternative outcomes and scenes that didn’t make it into the main story. Some will also be unrelated spin-offs. ...If something is popular, I may consider the possibility of introducing the idea back into the main story, ha. Possibly. You may see some parallels.

The intention is for this collection to serve as writing exercises to reimmerse myself back into G&G’s atmosphere (as well as being a fun way to pass the time while we wait however long for the main story to be updated for those experiencing G&G withdrawals). Sometimes I just need to get things out of my system. Sometimes I just want to experiment with ideas.

_Requests for a prompt can be accepted. But I will pick and choose._

* * *

**Legend:** (R) for requests, (#/#) for continuation, NSFW for not safe for work

 

**Table of Contents:**

Chapter 01: Contents

Chapter 02: Sesshomaru/ Harry -  _ **Wedding**_ _, NSFW_  (R, 1/1)

Chapter 03: Harry/ Sesshomaru -  _ **Office** , what if Sesshomaru stayed behind with Harry in modern UK instead of returning to feudal Japan?_  _NSFW_   (1/?)

Chapter 04: Harry/ Kagome -  _ **Observation** , what if G&G Head Auror Harry hadn't flubbed up in dragging Sesshomaru to modern Japan, and had instead met an impressionable Kagome?_ (1/2)

Chapter 05: Sesshomaru/ fem!Harry, past onesided!Colin/ fem!Harry -  _ **C** **hrysanthemum** , Soulmate Mark_ (1/?)

Chapter 06: Sesshomaru/ Harry -  _ **Water**_ ,  _the missing scene of ch10 of G &G_  _where Harry has to explain the marvel of the modern bath_ (1/1)

Chapter 07: implied!Sesshomaru/ Harry -  _ **Wolf** , a scene between Teddy and Sesshomaru but from Teddy's perspective_ (R, 1/1)

Chapter 08: Sesshomaru/ Harry - _**Resurrection Stone** , expanding on ch15’s implication where Harry meets with deceased spirits—Sirius and Remus—while Sesshomaru was having his discussion with James and Lily _(1/1)

Chapter 09: Harry/ Kagome -  _ **Observation**_ _, NSFW_  (2/2)

Chapter 10: Sesshomaru/ Harry - **_Yuletide_** , _a holidays oneshot in ancient Japan_ (1/1)

Chapter 11: Miroku/ Sango - **_Marriage_** , _the missing moment which we never got to see in the last episode of the Inuyasha: the Final Act anime_  (1/1)

Chapter 12 - ???


	2. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt:**  Sess/ HP Wedding (NSFW), established relationship
> 
> ** Reason this was cut:   
>  **   
>  redundancy. The idea could've worked with one of my initial plans...until I decided to have a second arc which'll take place mostly in feudal Japan.
> 
> An adult birthday oneshot originally written for  ** _arashi wolf princess_** , requested by  ** _vampygurl402_** , back in 2014. This, here though, is the full expansion of that snippet. This is more of an alternative outcome, but it's something close to what you would've read in G&G had I planned to end it at ch32. The wedding ceremony here is loosely based on the shinzen kekkonshiki ("wedding before the gods") and Kitsune no Yomeiri Gyoretsu ("the Fox Wedding Bridal Procession"). I'd blended in a few elements of what we could see in the main story. Basically….
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Much like their relationship, the public wedding for the two noblemen became a series of compromises.

It was a small committee, comprised of individuals from both their immediate circles—from both modern magical Japan and Great Britain—that'd helped them coordinate the event. Because they technically had a small English wedding before where the pair had exchanged vows—witnessed by Harry's close friends and family, where Sesshomaru had received one of Harry's four rings—dress robes were strictly forbidden this time for either grooms. Bespoke suits and tuxedos were similarly banned by Harry's irate mother-in-law.

Alternatively, appeals for a traditional yōkai wedding procession were met with hesitancy.

Both warlock and magical creature had settled for a mostly traditional ceremony typically between wizards in Sesshomaru's lands, below a canopy of cherry blossoms overlooking a sacred sight. Magical Japan was a different landscape than the rolling hills of Scotland or the rainy grey cities of England.

A night-time wedding meant more to the pair symbolically but out of consideration for their guests, the afternoon was selected instead. A strategic location, the choice of venue provided enough novelty for the curious masses wanting a spectacle. Little would know the grooms had forgone having the wedding ceremony at a shrine to avoid the disaster of potentially being barraged by noxious purifying energies—ancient magical safeguards meant to ward off evil.

An auspicious day had been set for the wedding date according to the surprisingly superstitious customs the dog demons practiced, but "Harry's attendants" did have words to say about having it during a shower of rain. They'd disagreed on whether it was a good or bad omen, but Hermione eventually won by arguing about its inconvenience to the guests—especially if they have the luxury of avoiding it. Both sides had carefully planned for a sunny day, avoiding overcast clouds.

Even so, the season was supposed to determine the pattern, material, and lining of their kimonos. In their pre-wedding preparations, neither Harry nor Sesshomaru had entertained the idea of either one of them wearing the elaborate layers of the  _juuni-hitoe_  or the black hair wig that Japanese customs dictated befit a bride. Neither man desired resembling an empress doll as Inukimi, Sesshomaru's mother, had proposed in jest. (Since her son and son-in-law were both men, the Lady Mother had made a lighthearted comment about the unjustness. Neither had to apply cosmetics such as gentled eyebrows which were to resemble the leaf of a yanagi tree and makeup that arguably resembled a geisha's.)

Harry did have to shave the beard off his face on the morning of, even though he'd protested his appearance was to convey a sense of intimidation. He disliked the effect a clean jaw lent him. The scar that'd ravaged the side of his face was concealed with magic instead of foundation, his face reflected back in the mirror being that of a younger man—a stranger's almost.

He felt vindicated in return when Sesshomaru agreed, begrudgingly, to tie his own long silvery hair up and to be on his best manners.

While distinctly more embroidered and luxurious than the average black  _montsuki_ , their ceremonial wedding kimonos couldn't be any more different from each other. In the distance, the white formalwear the wizard donned symbolized a bride's  _shiromuku_  and silk embroidered coat, of a sort. When asked, one of the explanations provided was that the Englishman had cheekily volunteered to have his kimono altered to somewhat pay homage to the concept of a traditional Japanese bride, even though he was an Englishman. Such an individual was to be given away to the otherworldly sovereign whom one female reporter described tearfully to her ravid readers as "dastardly handsome and unfairly statuesque in boring black Asian ensemble."

Both grooms had a compact white bouquet— _haori himo_ —at waist level to loosely tie the kimono together and a fan had been inserted into the belt of their  _hakama_. Having considered both of their high positions and heritages, family crests— _kamon—_ were displayed on their coats. The English guests recognized the Black, Peverell, and Potter crests on the white  _haori_  whereas the Japanese crowd had seen the cherry blossom crests on Sesshomaru's to symbolize the House of the Moon.

They mostly adhered to the customs to the formal wedding ceremony, from the single file line of the wedding procession to the pavilion and the ancient court music. When they'd ascended the stone steps shadowed by a grove of bamboo and trees, a string of paper lanterns guided them, with the chime of bells. Not once did the grooms glance at each other, even when Sesshomaru turned around when Harry finally stepped forward to take his place beside him. Warmth radiated in the sliver of space left between their arms.

There had been some allowances given—their gigantic guest list being one of them. Their guests spanned the globe, with many tuning into the magically broadcasted wedding of the century. There were even some Americans and other foreign faces. The mutual decision to deviate somewhat from tradition had gotten raised brows from the Japanese guests, both old and young, demons and wizardkind in modern magical Japan. Most men and women from the UK wore hats, and both had on slightly more relaxed attire than the formal black-tie dress code or professional suits that their Japanese contemporaries wore.

Like fragments of tinted light flickering in the breeze, small delicate flower petals drifted around the knelt forms. Having observed the grooms sip sake from their lacquered flat cups—a ritual to be done three times—and present their offerings, the Shinto priest and his shrine maidens were waiting to finish giving their blessings.

"'On this great day, before the great Shinto gods,'" Sesshomaru snuck a meaningful peek over at Harry before his gaze dropped back down on the script inked into the scroll, "'we are sincerely thankful for this ceremony. Going forward, we will love each other, trust one another, share the good times and the bad, and swear that this will stay unchanged throughout our lifetimes.'" He'd managed to keep the sneer off his face.

Harry read a similar script, but he finished with, "'My devotion to you is certain and forever shall be. I solemnly swear I will stay with you until the end.'" The gaze leveled at the side of his face felt heavy. An alternative to the bulky white headdress a Japanese bride would wear, although he'd ordinarily worn the celestial robe that'd been permanently attached to him as a scarf, he chose to have it serve as a veil for this occasion. He recited carefully, "'If you truly long for me, I will come straight back….' Always."

From the crowded seats, even with the earmuffs to soften her sensitive hearing, the young Asian woman with a dusky brown skin tone smiled, recognizing the line from the children's ballad long ago. The bat half-demon remained immune to the glances Harry's colleagues from the British Ministry shot at her.

In the same blandness, the grooms recited the date and declared their roles in the marriage. Presenting their sprigs of evergreen to the altar, they bowed and they clapped their hands. With Sesshomaru having waited another five hundred years for them to be reunited, while they were still seemingly more reserved than most couples, they'd grown more comfortable with the idea of demonstrating their affection, public indecency laws be damned.

In lieu of  _shinzoku katame no sakazuki_ , the final ritual where the attendees—in-laws, relatives, and close friends—drank enchanted rice wine to celebrate the two families coming together, the pair had replaced it with three Western rituals instead.

"I now pronounce you husbands…," the priest paused, eyebrows knitting in memory of the pre-wedding practice, before adding, "and Mates. You may now…seal your union with a kiss?"

At the edge of their seats, everyone waited with bated breaths as Lord Sesshomaru finally moved to tilt Lord Potter Black Peverell's chin up with much anguishing slowness. Even Harry's best man, Ron, was restless on his feet.

The gossamer veil that had been over the wizard's head slid down with a soft hiss to his broad shoulders. If it had not been for the claws that were pressed gently against Harry's back, the enchanted green silk would've fallen to the stone dais.

"Stop antagonizing them," Harry mumbled, fighting a smirk that threatened to mirror Sesshomaru's. He laid his gloved hands on sides of the narrow waist, ignoring the loud poofs of smoke and bright camera flashes among the buzzing crowd. Being so close, Harry could smell the floral fragrance of Sesshomaru's moonlight hair—which were brushed and oiled for this special occasion—and a whiff of an indescribable masculine scent. It was a contrast which Harry had come to miss. "Let's get this over with."

Sesshomaru whispered back in Japanese, "This Sesshomaru does what this Sesshomaru wants." Warm air was puffed softly in the space above Harry's lips. "The whims of your subjects will not be obeyed."

Fighting the urge to laugh, Harry brushed his mouth over a set of cupid-bow lips. A gloved hand discreetly caressed mokomoko-sama—deft, featherlight touches against the fur.

The slitted pupils dilated, the sclera on the verge of reddening.

Harry's grin was swallowed by Sesshomaru's mouth. The world consisted of only them and the point of contact between themselves.

It wasn't perfect. Their kiss was much like their personalities: impulsive, intense, reckless and impatient. There had been so much pent-up emotions and expectations poured into the kiss, so much of their tensions that had yet to be to relieved, and they had both been very nervous in their own pre-marital jitters. But to them it was perfect—it had been all they'd wanted and needed just then.

When they at last parted, the audience exploded into applause and shutter clicks that roared indistinguishably in their hearing. The clapping seemed to be the loudest coming from Harry's Aurors. Sesshomaru looked annoyed.

After taking much needed oxygen, with a glance at Harry's flushed features, Sesshomaru impulsively decided to break tradition. Dipping his Mate backwards slightly, sharp claws buried themselves in mussed hair as he recaptured Harry's mouth.

Luna Lovegood and Inukimi hid enigmatic smiles. Hermione and Sesshomaru's retainer, Jaken, were spluttering. Ron and Inuyasha had indescribable expressions.

At a loss of where to put his arms, Harry simply wrapped them around Sesshomaru's equally broad shoulders and let himself enjoy the ride.

A few seconds passed before his brother-in-law, Inuyasha—standing in the sidelines with the rest of the congregation—coughed into his fist, making Harry come back into himself with an embarrassing awareness. By this time, Jaken had waddled off after Inukimi who'd gone to exchange a few words with the yōkai servants disguised in the procession.

Instead of his recognizable fire rat robes, Inuyasha was dressed in a modern black suit. War medals were pinned to his breast. Like Sesshomaru, his fang was sheathed by his hip.

When Harry broke their open-mouthed kiss, the glare Sesshomaru shot at his half-brother was nothing short of glacial.

White puppy dog ears pressed down into silvery long hair as Inuyasha gave them a warning to keep it in the bedroom—albeit with more vulgar vocabulary than Harry cared to repeat—and a roundabout blessing that sounded more like a threat made to his older sibling.

Embarrassed by the judgemental looks Harry's friends were aiming at her husband, Kagome Higurashi whispered the dreaded "sit," making Inuyasha flinch out of reflex despite the rosary beads of subjugation being removed long ago.

In apology, she rested her hand over his, before bowing to the two lords. The pearled beads of the hairpin in her black hair swayed from the momentum. "Congratulations on your marriage, Kuro-roshi," Kagome congratulated, paying respects to her magical mentor.

Inuyasha followed the pull of her hand, mirroring her actions—a sincere gesture to him despite what he thought of Harry's significant other.

That particular grudge would take many more centuries to mend.

Instead of a black kimono or her shrine maiden uniform, Kagome had dressed in the same extravagant red gown all the bridesmaids and the maid-of-honor wore to the wedding. (A private joke among friends, Harry and his company had let her in on the secret behind his eccentric choice when she questioned why they kept smirking at several of their countrymen who'd been grimacing in the crowd.)

The corners of her mouth curling, she said, "And my blessings to your successful Mating, Sesshomaru. As family, I hope we will get along. I wish you two the best and a most fruitful union."

"We do not need your blessings,  _miko_ ," Sesshomaru retorted in distaste at her familiarity, remaining close to Harry despite the mortified whispers blossoming throughout their audience. Possessive hands were rested on Harry's waist. Brushing the tip of his nose against dark curls—also oiled with a scent Sesshomaru determined to himself that he liked immensely—he stifled himself when, beneath the wide black sleeve, a thumb stroked along a sensitive stripe on Sesshomaru's wrist as retribution.

"You two are sickening," Inuyasha hissed, catching them in the act. He looked torn between bemusement and horror. With a pinch from his wife's nails, he gritted out, "Not that I'm judging. Because I don't judge." Sliding his hands into his sleeves and away from her reach, he turned his head aside. Refusing to look at Sesshomaru's expression, he said aloud, "Have a great…what is it called again, Kagome?"

"Honeymoon," she supplied.

"Yeah, that, don't 'die from contentment and ascend to the heavens.'" Nostalgia crept into his voice; although a faded memory, it'd been something he remembered overhearing Miroku having once stated. "Death before fucking, I can imagine it now. It'd be pitiful."

" _Inuyasha!_ "

"Crass as always," Sesshomaru said in a tone that brooked no small amounts of displeasure and condescension. Yet the muscles of his face were relaxed. Likely he was in a pleasant mood due to his proximity to his Mate—and his imagination of the night ahead of them.

"Keh! At least I'm not thinking crass thoughts—!"

"For the rest of today," Harry interrupted, "could you two please pretend to be chums? You lot can have your sibling rivalry any other day, thanks." He gave them a tight smile. Flicking his wrist sharply, his Holly wand slid down the holster and slammed into his palm. He nonverbally summoned the bouquet of flowers the women—Hermione, Luna, and Kagome—had hand-selected for him since this part of the ceremony apparently needed a woman's touch. (To be on the safe side, the witches had charmed the flowers to bounce off any summoning spells.)

Quirking a brow at his newly-minted husband, as the ridiculously pretty arrangement slapped into his hand, Harry said, " _Nenja_ , care to help me do the tedious honor of throwing the bouquet over our heads? After this, we have a ball to attend. The dinner party's relatively it—program-wise."

Sesshomaru had already been in process of placing the green gossamer material back into its customary position as a celestial mantle cloth—dual scarves trailing Harry's shoulders like twin tails. Inspecting the sight, he murmured, "Should my  _wakashu_  desire of me, Hari-mine."

Both disregarding the gagging noises from Inuyasha, they turned around and waited for a few solid beats as the wizards and witches—their wands had been confiscated before the procession—and invited parties scrambled to get into optimal catching position for the bouquet toss.

Upon reaching the number ten, both sets of claws and human fingers flung the bouquet overhead.

With the unanticipated strength of a demon's aid, the bouquet sailed far above the outstretched hands and eventually landed in one bewildered boy's arms. The young metamorphmagus stumbled under the weight and, once regaining his bearings, he blinked down at the ensemble confusedly. He remained oblivious to two little girls' enraptured attentions, eyeing him with interest.

From different sides of the grass, Victorie and Rin soon leveled glares at each other.

* * *

To many outsiders, the enigmatic Lord Sesshomaru of the Western Lands appeared as stoic and collected as ever. The same could be said about the stern Head Auror—now officially taking title as Lord Consort of the Western Lands. But everytime that Harry came back from mingling with the guests at the dinner party, Sesshomaru would somehow find every opportunity to brush against him.  _Reapplying the scent-marking_ , he'd claim.

Even during the best men's speeches—Ron and Inuyasha had a grand time sharing embarrassing anecdotes about the grooms than sentimental stories—with their knees pressed together, sometimes Harry could feel a foot grazing his ankle. Or a warm palm on his thigh.

In retaliation, Harry would make casual contact with sensitive magenta markings, stopping just shy whenever they were in danger of becoming even the slightest serrated on Sesshomaru's pale flesh.

A centuries-old game they played, it's partly affection, partly testing what they can get away with—the victor interchanging constantly.

As the festivities wore on, while the guests enjoyed the amenities provided at the  _ryokan_ —a  _kaiseki_  multi-course meal for the still hungry, the traditional gardens, and the hot springs—after making sure Teddy and Rin were well-protected, Harry and Sesshomaru retreated to their secluded honeymoon suite reserved for them in the inn. It felt like they'd left the modern world behind, like back in the olden days when they would sip tea in the open-air tearoom, surrounded by greenery and the soothing sound of rushing water.

Presently, Harry was gathering the last of the petals, which'd rained down the happy couple like confetti, from his white kimono. After banishing the flowers, his wands were stored in a secure place after he'd warded the perimeter for security. The night had rode in on a blanket of midnight velvet, the full moon overshadowing the stars.

The room they were in was divided by  _shoji_  doors, one at the entrance and another in the back. Harry inhaled the faint fragrance of straw. At the center of the  _tatami_  mats, the low wooden table had already been cleared away. Two  _futons_  and a pair of pillows had replaced it on the floor. Like pallets that'd been rolled out, they were essentially two mattresses put together to make one double bed set covered by an embroidered duvet cover.

It was dimly illuminated. The paper protected the flame of the floor lamps, and their belongings were already stowed away in the  _tansu_  chests by the servants. With little else to do, he was content to observe how the moon played off Sesshomaru's tall figure, a silvery light which bathed the contours of his face and his body.

Harry's breath caught when he heard, "You are staring." Turning around, Sesshomaru canted his head. The black kimono and striped  _hakama_  did not do justice to his otherworldly beauty, in Harry's opinion. They were plain in comparison. "Is this Hari pleased by what he is seeing?"

He tried to dredge up a smile. "Well...I suppose. I ended up marrying him." It was a small jab, but Sesshomaru's affronted expression was worth it. His smile waned. Glancing at his socks, Harry fiddled with his sleeve before admitting, "I believe you would look better in my outfit. I overheard some people."

A brow lifted. "This Sesshomaru is aware the bridal rituals were more applicable in my case," he said slowly, recalling a similar conversation they had before. His head tilted to the other side. "But this Hari had been argumentative, when this Sesshomaru offered."

"I volunteered for this getup because you have to maintain appearances for  _your guests_. At least I can beg off being an eccentric foreigner in your country…." Noticing the beginnings of a frown on Sesshomaru's features, Harry unclenched his jaw and breathed through his nose. Forming a chagrined look, he inquired, "Did you find your inspection satisfactory? You seemed lost in thought." He folded his arms.

For a heartbeat, he stared at him, and a glint of gold in his eyes ignited a simmering heat within Harry. To describe his facial expression would be like describing a scholar pondering the fallacies of human nature.

His silence was somehow comforting, peaceful in a way where Harry could feel at home. Whenever they'd get into a fight, with their strong personalities they often raised their voices and used cutting insults. It took time for either one to wind down, and one often ended up being more remorseful than the other—though they had different ways of showing it.

Finally Sesshomaru said, "There's no accounting for taste." He reached up and tugged the white ribbon that'd tied his hair. As the strands cascaded down his back, he slid the  _shoji_  doors shut behind him with a quiet  _shhhk_. The moonlight made the translucent paper glow a pearl sheen.

The room was bathed in writhing shadows. Even so, both occupants of the room could see each other.

"Only a fool would dare attack us. Your precautions are once again to be commended. There will be no spies." Although Sesshomaru wasn't able to witness the full effect his praise had on his Mate, the surprised pleasure that'd flitted across Harry's face spoke measures.

Approaching him, Sesshomaru stopped less than one meter away. He lifted his hand and left it dangling in the space between them, expectant.

Familiar with the gesture, only after slight hesitation, Harry closed the distance, pressing his cheek against the coarseness of Sesshomaru's palm. He glanced up.

"You remain irritatingly obstinate to your own allure." Despite the offensive address, his voice was a gentle rumble, lowered so that Harry had to lean in closer to hear. His voice wielded as a caress, he directed, "Turn around." A path was traced over a cheekbone with his knuckles.

"Why?"

Sesshomaru glared at him.

Harry searched his expression, before eventually acquiescing. He was staring at the wall for a few seconds when he felt a light pressure against the side of his neck, lips curving against the patch of colored skin. A familiar heat unfurled at the point of contact, spreading throughout his body like a cotton blanket wrapping around him. His breath hitched when an arm curled around him.

Even with the layers, the hardness behind Harry was difficult to ignore with the demon lord's body pressed solidly against him.

The skin around his eyes crinkled at the corners. Harry managed to say levelly, "I don't suppose you need help with that?"

Instead of answering, Sesshomaru slid a hand beneath the folds of the kimono, under the white undergarment kimono— _nagajuban_ —until his claws reached skin. In privacy and especially during the evenings, the dog demon became less reserved, emanating an intensity only Harry had intimate knowledge of. It was a sensual glide, exploring muscles and the raised grooves from the scars that ran like spiderwebs down his body. Sesshomaru directed, "Disrobe."

Despite having issued the command, a tongue licked the blue crescent moon on Harry's neck, sending electric tingles through the Mating mark. Sesshomaru was removing his coat.

"What's the magic word?" Harry breathed, eyelids fluttering half-mast.

Sharp canines nipped him. To soothe the sting, kisses were planted on the nape of his neck, his shoulder, and any skin that was exposed.

A flush of red went down Harry's throat and collarbone, all the way down to his chest. The embroidered silk landed pooled down, followed by the  _nagajuban,_ all of which were caught by the layers of fabric sashed at his waist.

A similar sound of rustling clothes followed suit. When he peered over his shoulder, he got an eyeful of naked flesh. His usual eloquence escaped him.

Everything else became a blur of motion and articles of clothing—including gloves—being carefully discarded. All he knew was he'd been the one to pin Sesshomaru down, with long hair pooling under them, over the white futon like silvery streams in the moonlight.

Propping himself up on his elbow, Harry smiled—a slow, dangerous smile. "Hello." The floral fragrance was stronger when he brought the strands below his face; he'd kissed the tips with reverence.

A pair of molten gold observed the action. There was a sedate quality in his body language. There was also a hint of reminiscence to those magical creature features, but it'd faded before Harry could call attention to it. His voice was husky. "This Hari wishes to take this Sesshomaru...?"

Sesshomaru rolled them over. He covered Harry's body with his own, breathing hot against the jut of his Adam's apple.

There always existed a sense of darkness hidden in the hard lines like a sheathed blade, in the cords of his muscles. Even in the dimness, Harry could see the magenta stripes on Sesshomaru's forearms were slowly growing affected from his arousal, becoming lavender—jagged edges of paper that'd been torn into strips rather than the graceful brushstrokes they once were. His eyes were a pair of glowing yellow in the lantern light.

Sesshomaru's cock, trapped between their stomachs, rubbed along, smearing pre-cum against their skin. He murmured, scraping teeth against sensitive nerve endings, "You did not emerge victorious from our previous spar."

Ceding control over to him was a small loss, Harry found he didn't mind it. The power to give or deny pleasure wasn't tonight's intent. He was already half-hard when broad hands—calloused from centuries of handling swords—stroked fire down to his inner thighs. His breath shuddered as the claws moved along the crevice of his rear.

Shimmying down, Sesshomaru settled himself in between, pushing Harry's knees back until his legs hung in the air. He was careful not to nick him with sharp fingernails. Mokomoko-sama snaked up his ankles, until the fluffy pelt had locked the legs into place for him.

Harry's hips jerked in response when he felt himself being taken into a roughened palm, a thumb idly tracing the slit of the knob. He hissed, "Ah, shite."

Sesshomaru's eyes snapped up. He didn't admonish him, but the judgement was etched into his frown.

Fine tremors wreaked Harry's body, being under his ministrations—when a thought suddenly seemed to occur to Sesshomaru. "Where is your wand?" He glanced around, before saying, "We will not take this Hari dry again."

Recalling the memory, Harry couldn't help the wince.

In the rare occasions they were impatient enough to attempt it—mostly when they had been hyped on the adrenaline, aroused from the thrill of victory—likely due to his high pain tolerance, the dry friction was never as unpleasant as Harry expected it to feel during sex. But whenever it came to the rougher and deeper thrusts, he did regret the burn once the post-orgasmic afterglow wore off. Sitting back on his elbows, Harry said, "Hold on." Concentrating, he wiggled his fingers.

The Holly wand responded to his will, slapping into his palm with a fleshly  _thwack_.

Shifting back a tad, he watched, entranced, as Harry went through the preparations. By now the application was mostly mechanical. Enchantments were weaved over Harry's body—charms meant to clean him from the inside, and one which replaced the need to manually apply lubricant or oils.

When the last of the glow died off, Harry set his wand aside on the  _tatami_ —far enough that it wouldn't roll over and be crushed accidentally, but close enough for him to lunge for it in emergencies like getting summoned for duty. (It's happened plenty of times before that they were both resigned to it.) Draping an arm around Sesshomaru's shoulders, he told him, "We're supposed to be on our honeymoon, so there's no need to rush this time."

A content, rumbly noise emerged from Sesshomaru as he nosed his hair.

With his fingertip, Harry reached down to gently probe himself below at the entrance, before gliding one—eventually two—fingers in, up to his knuckles. There was no ache as he felt the ring of muscle accommodating the stretch. It was a continual lukewarm pressure, and a heightened awareness that he was being watched with keen interest.

When Harry could no longer tolerate careful and gentle anymore, he removed his fingers. His smile was uneven. His eyes darted from Sesshomaru's face, down his waistline, skittering at the pelvis, before landing back on the torso. He opened his legs wider—wanting him closer, inside him, more than anything, wanting to grasp onto that sense of closeness growing between them always.

Their eyes met.

Without a word, Sesshomaru took himself in hand and moved closer. Poised at the entrance, then like a long thick wedge, the hard length of his flesh began to breach him.

Harry's head fell back. He'd forgotten how to breathe. Everything was feeling and sensation and it was overwhelming. He put his hands on Sesshomaru's lower back to encourage him forward, because Sesshomaru was filling him up and touching all the right places, finding the right spots that sent lightning flashes everywhere.

It was in a demon's nature to take. And take. And take. Until there was nothing left. Sesshomaru settles for taking the wizard apart slow and steady, watching his pupils dilate until there's only a thin sliver of green left in his eyes.

The air was saturated with magic, thick with the scent of sex and sweat commingling together. Groans, hisses, and sighs became breathless song. He smelled Sesshomaru, entangled in him, allowing him in deeper, joining into one again and again. Thrust after thrust, it sent him spiraling into a world where he couldn't see or speak, couldn't do anything but feel and rock his body back.

Waves of sensation began in Harry, a conduit of liquid desire arcing between them, spreading tingles over his skin. He felt himself topple first, his orgasm rippling through all corners of his body as white ribbons spurted over his chest and stomach. His abs taut and quivering, Harry went boneless, his blood thrumming from the release.

But Sesshomaru still persisted, slamming into him, retreat, and then thrust into him again. The weight of his balls came against Harry's arse with each surge of his hips, over and over he began marveling how someone could pack so much strength and power into such a lean body.

Harry held him throughout it, blindly caressing all the markings he could reach. Beneath his hands, attuned to the way his body worked, he could feel when the solid mass above him finally began to strain. It was the repetition of sound and sensations that'd sent Sesshomaru over the edge, his entire body tensed. Pleasure was beginning to sweep through Harry again, this time originating from the Mating mark on his neck—a phantom echo on the verge of being too much.

Wet heat pulsed between them as his seed coated him inside, a thickness swelling against fluttering muscles. His cock tugged inside him, the knot refusing to yield its position. Harry heard a low, guttural moan—and realized it came from himself.

Sesshomaru nuzzled his throat and kissed along the top of his shoulder.

They rolled onto their sides, sticky and satisfied, connected at the base of his cock which was still rigid and hard. The night air cooled their sweaty bodies on the futons as they gathered their breath.

He rested his chin on Harry's shoulder, his breath fanning against his jaw while they waited. His claws slid over a taut stomach to tease at the small trail of dark hair leading down. His other hand was on the wizard's hip, pulling him back toward him.

By the time the knot deflated enough in size to pull out, they only regained the capacity for rational thought shortly after.

Twisting around, Harry threaded his fingers behind Sesshomaru's head, angling his mouth to meet his. He tasted of rice wine and his own unique flavor, like a brewing storm, and Harry reveled in this knowledge.

* * *

Harry was finally beginning to drift in his husband's embrace, becoming lost in the thrum of the heartbeat against him. Beneath the duvet, an ankle had hooked over his, with an arm draped loosely around him to keep him close. It was not a sleeping position they would maintain as the night went on because of the overheating, but it made Harry feel a lightness in his body that someone like Sesshomaru would make the conscientious effort.

He gets to have this, Harry thinks with no small amount of wonder. He gets to share his life with this man—this force of nature that belongs only to him. The notion was no less fantastical than the day he'd allowed himself this possibility.

The thoughts churning in him had kept him awake through the night.

Abruptly, lips ghosted above his skin, over where the scarred flesh was. Vibrations coursed through Harry when the deep voice murmured to him drowsily, "You're thinking too much. Sleep."

It's magic the way the rigidity melts away from Harry's body. Shifting closer, he pressed his cheek to Sesshomaru's chest, exhaling softly. He nodded.

Nothing else needed to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Well, I don't know what to say, except I tend to write NSFW clinically, ha. So, I figured we should try for something newer this time! This is good practice for the two future scenes of the main story. The [SFW version can be found on fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12993477/2/Tales-of-Natsukashii).
> 
> [(You may also find me on tumblr!)](http://phoenixtakaramono.tumblr.com/)   
> 


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